


Neck and Neck

by EvilMuffins



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion, Rebuild of Evangelion | Evangelion: New Theatrical Edition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: A little voice in the back of his head, the one that came to him late at night, skulking around in his brain whenever the Walkman dared to run out of tape, whispered to him, suggested that he should feel special.Shinji Ikari was not special.





	

“Shinji-kun?”

“Huh?” The piano wailed out a sour note as Shinji snapped back to attention, his fingers twitching on the random selection of keys they had hovered over.

Kaworu chuckled. “I was just wondering if everything was alright. You were staring at my neck.”

“Oh… Oh! Um,” Shinji began to rub at his own neck subconsciously, shifting on the bench they shared. “It’s just, that collar… Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

Kaworu looked surprised, bringing his hand up to his own neck, lightly patting the collar he found there. “To be honest, sometimes I forget that it’s even there. It’s like it was made for me.”

“I see…” Shinji returned his attention to the sheet music before them, even if he didn’t really quite understand it yet. Most of what Kaworu had explained about it had gone over his head. To think that something that so many people did every day (or had, considering the state of things outside) was more of a mystery to him than piloting the Eva, something that so few had been chosen for…

A little voice in the back of his head, the one that came to him late at night, skulking around the recesses of his brain whenever the Walkman dared to run out of tape, whispered to him, suggested that he should feel special. He quickly killed it. He wasn't even allowed to pilot the Eva anymore- forbidden, even- he reminded himself.

Shinji Ikari was not special.

“It was difficult for you, wasn’t it, wearing that?” Kaworu questioned, brows furrowing in sympathy.

“It felt like I was being strangled…”

Breath caught in Shinji's throat as Kaworu leaned over, wrapping his hands around the back of Shinji’s neck.

This was it, Shinji thought. For someone who had been so alarmed by the prospect of the bomb in the collar going off when he had worn it, the feeling of Kaworu’s cold hands on his neck triggered no action from the boy. A thought flashed across his mind, like a neon store sign on the fritz.

_If it’s Kaworu-kun, then it’s fine…_

“You’re very tense,” Kaworu pointed out, his hands failing to squeeze the life out of Shinji, but rather starting up a gentle kneading motion at the base of his neck. “The way you were rubbing at your neck, it looked as if you could still feel it there. I thought that maybe I help to ease the sensation.”

The way that the word fell from his mouth made Shinji’s face warm.

A pianist’s fingers were of course going to be skilled at these sorts of things. Shinji thought that he shouldn’t have been surprised as he began to feel the tension run out of him, slowly, like a frozen river letting out only the tiniest trickle come start of spring. However, the idea of being touched so gently was still a novel concept to Shinji.

He attempted to pull away. “Thank you, Kaworu-kun, but…”

“Do you have somewhere to be Shinji-kun?” Pale fingers remained, lightly trailing over the bumps of his neck, cascading down a warm chill.

Shinji hesitated. He didn’t, actually, unless he wanted to bring more books for Ayanami to leave untouched.

Once again, his focus returned to the black ring encircling Kaworu’s neck.

As if they belonged to someone else, Shinji became vaguely aware of his hands moving toward Kaworu’s throat, his fingers running curiously along the inky line of the collar.

Kaworu’s smile was bemused as Shinji attempted to push his fingers up underneath it. There was so little room between the band and his skin, how he even managed to breath, Shinji couldn’t know. Generally, any words that came from Kaworu’s mouth where gospel to Shinji, however there was no way that he could truly believe the collar to be comfortable. At a loss for what to do, Shinji’s hands slid down to rest on Kaworu’s shoulders, his forehead coming to settle against his shirt, impossibly fresh and crisp for the mess of a world they lived in it. It smelled of laundry soap and the sun.

Every time the question had bubbled up in his mind, he had stirred it until flat. Now it fizzed up to the surface once again: Why would Kaworu have done something like this for him, taken on this burden in his stead? It wasn't as if he deserved it- neither Kaworu nor himself.

Something bumped softly at the top of head. Kaworu’s chin had nestled down onto his hair as he answered the question unspoken, “Haven’t I told you already? It’s because I’m always thinking about you.”

The answer made as little sense in context as it had the first time he had spoken it.

A perfect answer for a world that made so little sense.

 

 


End file.
